Title:
A few days more

Sequel to:
Twenty-one days

Author:
evil minded

Date:
November, 29th 2010

Timeframe:
Fourth year at Hogwarts

Summary:
"A few days more" is the sequel to "Twenty-one days" – read and review this first or you wouldn't understand all that happens in this story.
The fourth year Slytherins and Gryffindor have survived their imprisonment in the potions classroom situated in the dungeons. How will they go on in all-day life after their survival? How will they manage to reintegrate into the castle's routine and their classes? How will they be able to go back to life at all? Watch how those who survived fight for their lives and for their peace.

Disclaimer:
Did you see Severus alive at the end of 'The deathly hallows'? no?
Do you think I would have had him died if I had written those books? no?
Then you know that 'Harry Potter' does not belong to me … nor does Severus … regrettably …
But Hereweald Hrothgar does …

Rating:
M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

Author's Notes:
Uhm … alright … I have to admit … English is not my language by birth … so … please do not kill me while reading … neither for the – perhaps – sad language, nor for the subject of my writing …
Also, this is a story written for NaNo, a story written within thirty days only and even though I go over the chapters before uploading them – I do apologize if it might not have the same quality at one point or another than those stories of mine you are used to by now … thank you …

Warning:
Story contains bad language and swearing.
Don't ever use such, it's neither good manners nor proper use of language and never mind how 'cool' it might sound, it surely isn't a sign of intelligence. It won't get you anywhere and people will think less of you if you are unable articulating properly.
Story contains references to child neglect.
Child neglect is a really, really serious thing, and there are a lot of children in our world that are neglected, children that lack food, clothing, often love, and perhaps even a roof over their head – and closing our eyes, and pretending it does not exist – is no solution …
Story contains references to child abuse.
Child abuse is one of the most evil things, and there are a lot of children in our world that really would need help but have to live without hope – and again, closing our eyes and pretending it does not exist – is no solution … instead show sympathy, and understanding … and handle people, children as well as adults, which are showing any signs – whichever – of once having been abused … with understanding and with help …
What does not mean I am not as evil as I pretend to be … ^.~ … believe me – I am …

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

Previously in A few days more

The place was a sad place.
The shelves were filled with cleaning agents of all sorts, the entire cupboard smelled of cleaning agents, too – and of dust. There was a small and thin mat on the floor, without a pillow, and only a tiny baby blanket, and not only was it clear that no child could have slept well on a flimsy thing like that, but what really worried him were the dirt- and blood stains on the mat. It was clear that they had locked an ill and injured child away in that cupboard. Waving his wand, he frowned, and then lifted the thin mat, pulling a few pieces of paper from beneath the mat, and he smiled at the attempts of … drawing numbers and letters.
Petunia had denied the child school, and yet, the boy had done his best to learn on his own, and considering that he was a rather good student, despite the little fact that he had not been to pre-school, well – he was proud of his son. But his anger at the Dursleys only increased upon such obvious hate and neglect.
"I guess, I have seen enough." He said, glaring at Vernon and Petunia. "Well, for now, your punishment will be cupboards as your rooms." He then growled, waving his wand at the upstairs floor. "Each and every room upstairs is now a copy of this cupboard here, dirty and flimsy mat, and cleaning agents included – and including the locks, of course." He then added, ominously. "Your upstairs possessions are – gone … oh, and expect my next visit in a few weeks, dear Petunia … Vernon …" And with these words he left the house.

A few days more
Chapter twenty-nine
Politicians

"Call a meeting with the cabinet! Immediately!" Gerard Montpierre, the French wizarding minister called out. "How could we have missed that! I want the cabinet here, right now!"

Isabelle Moreau looked up from her desk, frowning. She had never seen the minister so – agitated, so completely beside himself as he seemed to be right now. But, of course, she didn't question him but cast a patronus, whispering something to the shiny animal, and then sent it off to look for the members of the cabinet, making sure that the message was viewed as urgent, before she left her desk and approached the open door to the Minister's office.

"May I get you a cup of coffee, Monsieur Montpierre?" She asked.

"Ah, yes, please, Isabelle." The man sighed.

What would he do without Isabelle? That women was not only good in her job, but she also seemed to always know what he needed. Not always necessarily what he wanted, but what he actually needed – what got them into one argument or another, sometimes, but in the end he always saw reason … and he always thanked Isabelle with a nice bouquet of flowers upon her desk. Or a piece of chocolate cream cake and a cup of cappuccino.

And but a moment later the cup of coffee floated over to the man, and with a deep sigh he took the cup from midair, and took a sip, trying to calm himself.

He had just read the 'faire l'actualité'

And what he'd read, it was so unbelievable, it was so … how could these happenings had been kept secret? How had they not noticed what had been happening in wizarding Great Britain? How had Minister Fudge kept the entire incident from spreading all over the world? He knew how news worked, of course. They spread through your ministry, and then through the city, through the entire land with a speed that seemed unstoppable, never mind if you wished to keep them secret or not, and before you could even consider how to keep them from spreading any further, they had crossed the entire country, and had then already left the borders, had spread to Germany, to Spain, to Italy, and then, finally, leaving the continent, too.

And so – how had these …

"Gerard?" Robert Chevalier, his premier, entered his office, and he waved his hand, telling the other to take a seat. "What happened?"

"A minute please, Robert." He sighed, not wishing to tell the tale five times.

"Minister …" Richard Maitree yawned, and he waved his counsellor in, too. Well, it was early in the morning, he had to admit – so, of course Richard was tired.

For many years now, he had a sleeping disorder, and he was awake at three in the morning, and in his office at 5 – just in time to get the newspaper, and now it was barely after 6 in the morning. Most likely, Isabelle had got Richard out of his bed. And for a moment he wondered why she had not told him to wait, until at least 8 o'clock in the morning, and when all the normal people were awake.

It was only ten minutes later, and Pierre Durand, Bernard Moreau and Luis Dubois had arrived, completing his cabinet, all of them looking tired and expectant. Isabelle had brought coffee for all, and then she had seated herself at the table, quill and parchment at the ready.

"This has been on my desk this morning, brought by an anonymous delivery boy." The Minister waved his wand at the newspaper that lay in front of him, copying the article he had just read, and sending it to his ministry workers – and for a few minutes there was silence while everyone read.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

'The Tournament of death re-established

We write the year 1994, and for the first time since the Triwizard Tournament has been cancelled in the year 1792, nearly two hundred years ago, it is held once again.

Many readers of this respectable paper have agreed with this humble reporter, that it would be impossible to re-establish a tournament as dangerous as the Triwizard Tournament, but Minister Fudge has managed the impossible.

According to 'Hogwarts, a History', the Triwizard Tournament had been established some seven hundred years ago, as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, and Durmstrang Institute – and for 500 years, the three schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and to do their best to not only win the competition, but also in taking care of their visitors – because it was viewed as a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different schools and nationalities.

Generally, most of you, the readers of this respectable paper, would agree with this humble reporter that there is nothing wrong with that – except: the Triwizard Tournament was notorious for being extremely dangerous. Not only the tasks themselves were dangerous, but often the magical animals included, too. There had been beasts like lethifolds, manticores, dragons, acromantulas, cockatrices – these were used in the last tournament in the year 1792 and caused the tournament to being discontinued – and the Dutch government even spoke of a basilisk, as unbelievable as that might be, as a basilisk would have turned the entire audience into stone with alone its gaze.

As you, the sensible witches and wizards that you are, can imagine, the death rate of this competition was unbelievably high. There was barely a tournament during which not at least one student died, often two, and once in a while even all three participants. That this most dangerous Triwizard Tournament has not stopped until 1792, during which one of the tasks involved catching a cockatrice that went on a rampage and injured three of the judges, the heads of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang, no less, is a sign of how irresponsible the European wizarding world handles their young.

After that incident with the cockatrices, in 1792, the tournament has been finally discontinued due to the high death toll – but in this humble reporter's opinion, it has been only discontinued due to the judges and the heads of the wizarding schools being injured and nearly killed, but not because it had been a dangerous competition for the children (read page 3, the history column, on the TWT 1792).

Over the past 200 years, there had, of course, been several attempts made to resurrect the competition, but they have all been unsuccessful – until this day. It was Minister Cornelius Fudge who has re-established the competition between the three wizarding schools, and luckily with restrictions, in an attempt to put an end to any potential deaths.

One of these restrictions is, that all candidates have to be over the wizarding age of majority, which is 17, or else they would not be allowed – it was promised that they would be unable to apply for being champion, while another restriction was to keep any 5x classified creatures out of the tournament, and only allow 4x classified creatures.

Or so, we were made believe.

However, this reporter can inform you, my dear readers, that those restrictions have no meaning. They are of no consequences, because the name of Harry Potter, actual age being 14 years of age, has accidentally come into the goblet of fire, and he was chosen as a second champion for Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Where, this humble reporter asks you, my loyal readers, lies the fairness, and the safety, in a fourteen year old child having to compete against his wishes? How can a child like that be kept safe in a tournament such as this? Will the wizarding world have another death at its hands, after all of this is over?

Another piece of information this reporter can share with you, loyal readers, is that the tournament preparations, which should have been held in secrecy, are not so secret.

Luckily, however, as we now know that Cornelius Fudge was to visit the Muggle Prime Minister last week, to inform him that the Wizarding Ministry would be importing several dragons from Romania reserve, as well as a sphinx from Egypt, for use in the competition – both creatures 5x registered creatures, ladies and gentlemen, despite the promise that was made that these creatures were not allowed in this tournament of 1994 (read page 5, excerpt from today's muggle paper 'The Times' on 'don't worry about dragon sightings' in which the muggle ministry explains eventual sightings of dragons flying over London).

And now this reporter wonders, how, in Merlin's name, young 17 year old students, and a 14 year old boy, children that have not yet left school, are to compete with a dragon, or a sphinx. Our children should be kept safe, should they not? And how can the British wizarding world trust the word of its minister ever again after such important promises having been made and then broken, and a 14 year old child is to compete against dragons and sphinxes?

And yet, this is not the most unbelievable and horrible news this reporter has to share with you.

Because the British government and the British minister, are not only risking the lives of the four young students that are to compete in the tournament – no, they have, actually, disregarded the lives of 17 students and a teacher, for 21 days.

Few of you know that the first meeting about this tournament has occurred in fall 1991, but a year after Cornelius Fudge was sworn into the office, and over the following two years, until the beginning of the 1993 term, the French Wizarding Minister, the Scandinavian Minister of Wizardry, and the Britain Minister of Magic have planned the re-establishment of this tournament. In spring 1994 it was, finally, all set – the Triwizard Tournament would start on October 1st in 1994 at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

On the second of September, however, as you all know and remember with horror, the tragedy of Hogwarts has started – the dungeons potions classroom caved in due to an exploding cauldron and an outside attack, and seventeen students and Professor Snape were trapped within for 21 days. Most of you will remember, that on Monday, the sixteenth of September, has been the day of mourning, held at Hogwarts, and this reporter will re-print here and now, some of the horrors this paper and others have printed during that time of their imprisonment, on the twenty-second of September, to be precise.

"If there is a word to describe the recent events that have Britain captured in its talon, then it is horror. But this time it is not He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named who is causing that horror, but an accident caused by those who once worked for You-Know-Who, by those who still believe in him, nearly thirteen years after his demise, and this reporter wonders what kind of wizards and witches stood behind the attack, considering that they attacked a wizarding school, a school filled with innocent children.

It leaves no other possibility, and one simply has to wonder if those attackers, those followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, are not to be equalized with simple muggle terrorists. Attacking a building that is filled with innocent people, children, teenagers, students, even risking the lives of their own children." This reporter, Daily Prophet

"Brown, Lavender … Bulstrode, Millicent … Davis, Tracey … Granger, Hermione … Greengrass, Daphne … Parkinson, Pansy … Patil, Parvati … Crabbe, Vincent … Finnigan, Seamus … Goyle, Gregory … Longbottom, Neville … Malfoy, Draco … Nott, Theodore … Potter, Harry … Thomas, Dean … Weasley, Ronald … Zabini, Blaize … Snape, Severus. Eighteen names, seventeen students and one teacher, seven girls, ten boys and one man, ten Slytherins and eight Gryffindors. You can name it with hundreds of terms, but one fact remains – eighteen souls are in those dungeons of Hogwarts, dying or already dead, and our minds are with them." Dung Allison, Daily Wireless News

"It is the 22nd of September, and this afternoon the Ghost of Harry Potter has been seen in Diagon Alley, near Gringotts, what gives proof that those seventeen students are meanwhile really dead, starved to death at one point or another during those 21 days they had been locked down in the potions classroom now, the Boy-Who-Lived in the end brought down not by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but by a fate that is just as cruel. I personally think that most likely the boy ghost had visited Gringotts to settle his last affairs so he could rest in peace." Kit Gerrard, Evening Prophet.

These reports have been printed on the twenty-second of September – and yet, on that very same day, the British Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, has had a meeting with Gerard Montpierre, the French Wizarding Minister, and Bjørn Einar Gambling, the Scandinavian Minister of Wizardry, declaring that everything was well and the Triwizard Tournament could be held at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, that the British school would expect their guests in nine days – while at that very same time, there were seventeen children dying in the dungeons at Hogwarts, seventeen children and one teacher.

Moreover, Minister Cornelius Fudge has even requested of Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of beforementioned school, that the dungeons are to be sealed before the delegations from French and Scandinavia would arrive at the school, as those seventeen students and Professor Snape, were surely dead by now, and the students from these other schools were not to be bothered by those dead students from Hogwarts' fourth year potions class.

A good thing, however, that the headmaster didn't have the heart to do so, because only in the headmaster's unwillingness to seal those dungeons, a disaster could be prevented. That these seventeen students are still alive, however, and meanwhile free, is not due to the British Ministry of Magic that has denied the headmaster any help he has asked of them in form of time-tuners, books that could have held any information which the ministry has, however, deemed dark, or the inclusion of UnSpeakables.

And now, this reporter wonders: what kind of Minister would deny any kind of help, if there were the lives of 17 children at risk? What kind of Minister would stubbornly deny knowledge, time-tuners or the help of the UnSpeakables, if there were the lives of 17 children at risk? What kind of Minister would seal such an area if the deaths of those children were not to 100 percent certain? Knowingly killing any potential survivor just to ensure the performance of the Triwizard Tournament that would lift his damaged reputation?

And even now, four weeks after the children has been found, those seventeen students are children that suffer from their long imprisonment. They have been locked away in the dungeons potions classroom, and they have lacked food, fresh air, warmth, light, and the comfort of a good night's sleep in a comfortable bed for 21 days. They still suffer from sleeping disorders, nightmares, weakness, muscle cramps, and flashbacks, and some of them are still deathly ill. They are not out of the woods, yet, due to several healers from St. Mungos that visit Hogwarts twice a week to help Professor Snape with looking after their health – and yet, still, this Tournament is to be held, just so that Minister Fudge would re-gain some of the popularity he has once had when he had started his tenure as Minister of Magic in 1990.

It is to be said, that Minister Fudge has quickly lost popularity and admirers, due to mismanagement, and wrong decisions he has made over the first few months of his tenure, and he has not managed to re-gain the trust of the British Wizarding World. (read page 7, the ministry financial report from 1990, and page 9, British Wizarding Minister hushes up his wrong decisions, a report from this reporter in July 1990)

When during the fall of 1991 the Triwizard tournament was first mentioned, it was a perfect solution for Fudge – if he could get the competition to take place at Hogwarts in 1994, before his tenure was over and a new Minister would be elected, he could, re-gain some of his former popularity, so the minister hoped – that he, however, would go over the dead bodies of seventeen students, was clearly the worst mistake Minister Cornelius Fudge has made in his term of office, and the wizarding world must ask if they could trust in their ministry ever again.

Your humble reporter Rita Skeeter, the daily prophet'

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

"Gunner …" Bjørn Einar Gambling called, leaving his office and looking for his vice – while at the same time Gunner Jorgen Fenris left his desktop to look for the minister, his long year friend.

Two offices down the corridor, on the right hand, the door opened at the same time, and Jorn Bergen Munin, the old counselor of the minister left his bureau, a newspaper clutched in his left hand.

"Minister …" Halvar Jantzen Halfdan, his politician for foreign affairs came through a door on the left side of the corridor just when Bjørn spotted Gunner coming from his own office, and but a moment later Skule Ingvar Andersson and Thorald Hjallmar Denmark came running along the corridor – well, just all the people he needed – and they all had a newspaper in their hands that looked like the London Daily Prophet – good.

"I see, you have all read the article from that Skeeter woman?" He asked, softly, and after they all gave an affirmative nod, he inclined his head. "Good, that will save us time. I would like you all being ready for travel in my office. We will depart to Hogwarts via the floo network."

"Hogwarts?" Halvar Jantzen Halfdan asked. "Not the ministry of magic in Great Britain to question Fudge?"

"No." He looked at his politician for foreign affairs. "I would like to question the headmaster, and Professor Snape first before I confront the British Minister upon an article in the newspaper."

"You could ask Lilya to investigate." Jorn suggested, but Bjørn shook his head.

"I would like to do that myself." He said. "If this is true …" He lifted his own copy of the British newspaper, "then I would like to apologize to those children in person – and then confront Minister Fudge to cancel the tournament.

"The tournament cannot be canceled." Gunner said, looking at his friend. "It is like a magical contract."

"Any magical contract can be cancelled." Bjørn huffed at his vice. "You just need to know how. And this one will be easy, because Fudge has lied."

"Very well, then hurry!" Jorn nodded his head. "I would like to be back by nightfall."

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

"Minister Montpierre." Albus blinked at the floo that was flaring green, and quickly he came from behind his desk and crouched in front of the fireplace. "What can I do for you?"

"My cabinet and I, we would like to come through." The French Wizarding Minister said, and Albus frowned – the French Minister here? At Hogwarts?

"This is Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry." He said, just to clarify matters. "Not the British Ministry for Magic."

"I do realize that, Professor Dumblydor, and we would like to come through anyway. I am sure that Bjørn Einar Gambling is on 'is way, too."

"Very well." Albus sighed and stepped aside to let the French delegation through his floo, a little bit confused, and not sure what he had to think of that visit. It could only have to do with the Triwizard Tournament, and he was not sure if he liked what might enfold with the French and the Scandinavian Minister visiting Hogwarts.

"Ah, well, good morning Minister." He greeted the man who stepped aside to allow his cabinet through.

"Good morning, 'eadmaster." Montpierre nodded his head at him. "We will wait until Minister Gambling 'as arrived."

"You come from a meeting with the Scandinavian Minister?" He asked, but Montpierre huffed and shook his head.

"No, Professor." The man said. "But I 'ave sent 'im a copy of today's Daily Prophet, just encase that 'e 'as not got it – even though I am sure that 'e 'as got your latest newspaper. Someone 'as made sure that I 'ad it on my desk, this morning, after all, and so I am sure that Minister Gambling 'as also got one."

Well, again Albus was reminded at the little fact, that neither Montpierre nor Gambling were as stupid and as manipulable as was Fudge.

"Maybe a cup of tea would be nice?" He asked, waving his wand and conjuring seven chairs – the office would get crowded when the Scandinavian delegation came through, too.

"Oh, no, 'eadmaster Dumblydore." The minister shook his head. "We will just wait for Minister Gambling, and then we will be off, don't worry."

"May I ask for the reason of your – unexpected visit?"

"We 'ave read Miss Skeeter's article in the Daily Prophet, and we 'ave come to speak with Professor Snape – and per'aps 'is children."

"Oh, you should know that Miss Skeeter has a reputation of a journalist whose stories tend to be based on false information and misreported interviews. She does prefer to write what she thinks people would like to read, instead of what they ought to read. Her writing is … enchantingly nasty."

"That might be, 'eadmaster." Montpierre shook his head. "But I would like to get a picture of what is true, concerning this article, myself."

For a moment Albus was about to forbid the minister the visit to Severus and the children, it was, after all, his school, and he would have had the right to do so. And that Triwizard Tournament was important.

Harry would need all help from other magical schools if he were to fight Voldemort, and this tournament would do what it has done since it was first invented – it would establish ties between the three largest European schools. If it was now cancelled – and he couldn't think of any other reason as to why the French, as well as the Scandinavian Minister would be visiting, than the competition being cancelled – then Harry would stand alone, and his chances to survive until the right moment, would be destroyed.

When the children were caved in down in the dungeons, he had, of course, been sad. He did love Harry, after all, and Severus, too, never mind if he needed those two for the upcoming war or not, and he had feared that all his plans would go wry.

Of course, he would have been able to destroy Voldemort himself, but not for good … the prophecy said that it had to be Harry, to destroy the Dark Lord once and for all. And if Harry had died, down there – before his time, well, it would have been a catastrophe to the war. He wasn't even sure if the Horcrux within Harry's core would have been destroyed if his body had died. Because to his knowledge, only Goblin Silver could do that, and basilisk venom, but not death itself. On the other hand, no one knew for sure, because never before had a horcrux been made inside the body of a living being.

But then … Harry was alive, and the tournament was safe, too. Harry had been unable to leave the antechamber when he had been chosen, and thus, the boy had to compete. Never mind what the French or the Scandinavian Minister would decide, they couldn't do anything, the Triwizard Tournament was safe.

The fire flaring green once more, got him out of his thoughts, and he gave the Scandinavian Minister his best twinkle-eye-smile.

"Good morning, Minister Gambling." He said, jovially, allowing the Minister – and his escort – through, just at the same moment that Montpierre got off his chair, vanished it, and gave him a curt nod – not a good sign, the French Minister vanishing his chair upon the arrival of the Scandinavian Minister, it meant they would like to leave his office immediately. He had hoped that, maybe, the Scandinavian Minister would take a cup of tea – and then, maybe, the French Minister would do so, too.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

"Good morning, Headmaster Dumbledore, Minister Montpierre – I have hoped to find you here, already." Bjørn Einar Gambling said the moment he came through the floo into the office of Albus Dumbledore. Apparently Gerard Montpierre was as careful as was he, when it came to accuse the British Minister of anything, before they had not made sure that this Skeeter woman's article was correct.

"Good morning, Minister Gambling." Dumbledore greeted him. "We have just spoken about, how Miss Skeeter's writing is enchantingly nasty and often tend to spreading false information and printing misreported interviews."

"That might be, Headmaster Dumbledore, but you know what people say – every lie has a true seed." He said, frowning at the old wizard – he was very good in understanding the wording people were using, and he knew the headmaster had intended to make him believe that Minister Montpierre was sharing his opinion on Skeeter. And he also knew that, upon the first impression, people normally tended to believe in the same as the majority of the momentary present did. But, Dumbledore was the headmaster of the school that had been so shamefully disregarded by the British Ministry of Magic – how could he now … but no, surely the man was not trying to protect the Minister. It had been his students, after all, that had nearly found death. "I would like to visit Professor Snape now, and I am sure that this is the very same reason of Minister Montpierre's presence here, too. If you could show us the way, headmaster?"

"Of course, gentlemen, of course." Professor Dumbledore said, and somehow he didn't know how to take that jovially the man displayed – but perhaps it was just his nature. "Maybe a cup of tea, before we depart?" The man asked.

"Thank you, headmaster Dumbledore, but no." He shook his head. "I would like to get this over with, quickly."

They were leaving the circular office – that was stuffed to the brim with the most strange equipment, and went down the just as circular staircase, and then the headmaster led them through what must be the main entrance hall.

"This is the great hall, where we hold meals." Dumbledore said upon passing the now open double door entrance to what was a very large hall with several tables, leading them inside, and he nodded his head politely. "And these stairs lead to the classrooms, and to the tower of two houses, to the Gryffindor tower, and to the Ravenclaw tower."

Again, he nodded politely, as did Montpierre beside him.

They had strangely mixed up – the French Minister walking beside him after Dumbledore, while their both cabinets were mingled trailing behind them, his vice minister softly talking to vice minister Chevalier, and both their undersecretaries whispering softly, too.

"The entrance to the castle, gentlemen, maybe you would like to see the grounds?"

"We would like to visit Professor Snape." He sighed, not sure why the headmaster would show this strange stonewalling tactic.

"Very well." The headmaster said, not sounding as if it were really so well. "But the grounds are beautiful during fall, Minister. All the trees are golden, and the flowers and bushes are a mixture of yellow, orange and red, beautiful Gryffindor colours – even the grass seems to copy those colours to some extent."

"The Potions Professor, please." He just said, hoping that Dumbledore would stop his delaying.

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

"But, how is it, that muggle equipment won't work here?" Neville asked, and he looked at the boy, fondly.

Neville had changed a great deal over the weeks. He had become very confident, and he had started to ask questions on his own, even questions that could be … confronting, or provocative. He had become the boy his father had been.

Frank Longbottom had been a good boy, and later on a good man, often going against James when he had bullied other children, and Frank had even, once or twice, taken James to task after he had bullied him, Snape, even though no other student at Hogwarts had cared about that.

And when Neville had arrived at Hogwarts, he had been very disappointed upon seeing a child that was – stuttering, scared of his own shadow, unable to do enough magic to go through his first year, and unable to organize himself so that he could do the tasks given, the boy's essays always being a mess as much as his practical work was.

"Actually, muggle equipment and magic does work together fine, Neville, if you know how it is done." He said, looking at Dean pointedly. "If your mp3 player falls into the cauldron during potions class, the reaction is not only very interesting concerning your person as the equipment is getting destroyed in the process and you will get detention from your nasty potions professor not only for the exploded cauldron but for your swearing, too, but the explosion itself is rather fascinating, too, because not only the battery acid is reacting with whatever ingredients are in the potion, but the electronics within the player as well. The best outcome would be just a – gentle – explosion if you were to brew … let me say, a coughing solution or a calming potion, and even a skin soothing balm would be rather harmless – except of the detention you would get from your Potions Master, of course, and not to mention that even a 'gentle' explosion could do harm if the student brewing is close enough to the cauldron. However, in these cases, detention could be given to begin with. If you were to brew a, let me say, wit sharpening potion, however, or a simple pepper-up, or perhaps a core strengthening potion, then there would not be enough left of this classroom – that would drop two floors down into the lower dungeons of Hogwarts, to give any detention to anyone, because neither teacher nor students would survive the blast."

"Oh …" Dean made, looking at him with large eyes at the realization of what could have happened, caught up with him.

"Oh, indeed." He huffed. "It was rather fortunate, that it has been a potion that belongs to the soothing group, and not to the strengthening or sharping group."

"But how do you make muggle electronics work together with magic, Severus?" Dean then asked – and it was clearly a diversion tactic, which he allowed, for once.

Well, it was clear that the boy loved some of his muggle equipment, his now new mp3 player, which he must have bought during the last summer holidays, included, and he was sure that in near future the boy would invent one or another thing, when it came to muggle and wizarding tools being used together.

"Actually, it is …"

There was a knock on the door that interrupted Severus, and with a frown he got off his chair and went over to the door. It was Saturday morning, and nearly everyone knew – at least everyone that ought to know and might visit them – that on Saturday mornings, they had breakfast in their house quarters, as it was the weekend.

"Any explanation as to why you would disturb these children's breakfast?" He drawled upon opening the door, scowling at the headmaster.

"My apologies, Severus." Albus said. "But Minister Montpierre, the French Wizarding Minister, and the Scandinavian Minister for Wizardry, Minister Gambling, wished to speak to you."

"And that could not wait until after breakfast?" He asked, not hiding his annoyance. "You know very well how important calm meals have become for these children, meals without interruption."

"Ah, yes … well …" Albus smiled, turning towards the two ministers – whatever reason the French and the Scandinavian Minister would have to talk to him. "Maybe it is not the best idea to …"

"My apology, Professor Snape." One of the two ministers said, and he was relatively sure that it was the Scandinavian Minister, he looked rather – northish. "I do understand the importance of regular and calm meals, even for healthy children, and just the more so for these children in your care. But the matter is of great importance. We would like to talk to you and your children, before we confront Minister Fudge."

"My … Merlin's beard …" He huffed, but inwardly he was pleased, because so far, this Minister was the first person that called those children his children. No one, so far, had acknowledged that these children were actually his, but this stranger did, and it touched him deeply – and he did something, he would normally never do … he gave way. "As this is breakfast, and I won't have it disturbed, I see no other way than you partaking." He growled, not only because that minister had acknowledged these children as his, but actually hoping that perhaps, they would be able to do anything concerning this bloody tournament, also – and no other reason they could have for their presence.

The Scandinavian and the French Minister being here, now, trying to speak to his house – before they were to confront Fudge – well, there was only one reason for that, and he hoped.

"The two ministers, gentlemen." Severus growled when suddenly fifteen people tried to get into their rooms. "I am sure that all of you can imagine how scared these children will be, if suddenly fifteen grown officials stand in their dining room."

"Of course." The other minister said, waving his escort away. "My apology, Professor."

"But surely I …" Albus started, trying to get past him, and he glared at the headmaster.

"Surely you are the best person to look after all these politicians, headmaster, while we have breakfast." He growled at the old man. "After all, you have been elected Minister for Magic several times throughout the years, and I am sure that neither of them have had breakfast. It is rather early, after all."

And with that, he closed the door into the headmaster's face.

Really!

Albus knew very well how important meals were for these children. But once more the man had shown how unthoughtful he was when it came to the health of his students. He just didn't understand that the children at his school were just that, children, and that they were not to be endangered with wars, with abuse, and with neglect – or with bullying. Neither from their families, nor from the teachers or headmasters. And not from other students.

Albus was, in the truest sense of the word, blue-eyed. In his opinion everything was fine, and everything was good, and everything was alright, as long as he had his hand in the matter and could push the pawns this way and that way.

"This way, please, but I expect you to not startle or scare these children, and to not make a fuss." He said, extending his hand towards the dining area of their quarters, where several children were watching the scene curiously, some even having stopped eating. "These are the Scandinavian Minister for Wizardry, Bjørn Einar Gambling, and the French Wizarding Minister Gerard Montpierre. They have visited us for breakfast, and even though they are Ministers, they are but wizards such as you and me, and so there is no reason to stop eating, Harry and Emma. Take a seat, please."

"Good morning, everyone." Minister Gambling said. "Call me Bjørn, please, and it is very nice of you to invite me, I didn't have breakfast yet."

"But breakfast is important." Harry said, looking over at the man. "Dad always says so, and you are not a good example to your country, if you lack in the important things."

For a moment there was silence, the Minister looking at the boy startled, but then the man broke out into a booming laugh.

"That is correct, Mr. Snape." The politician smiled after he had calmed down. "And I promise that I will heed your words and have breakfast in future. What's with you, Gerard?"

"That child is correct." The French Minister nodded his head. "I just don't always find the time for breakfast."

"Harry here has a point, Minister." He said, offering the two Ministers the coffeepot. "You are able to work more efficiently, if you had breakfast, and surely a minister does have to work efficiently …?" He drawled, causing Bjørn to chuckle.

"Indeed, Professor." Gerard agreed, chuckling, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "I find this constellation a little bit strange, 'owever." The man then said, looking at the children. "You are eating 'ere, together, in what seems to be a 'ouse of the school, while – if I remember it correctly – 'ogwarts 'as only four 'ouses which are bigger than this gathering 'ere. And it cannot only be that group from the cave in of the Potions classroom, because I see 'ere children much younger, and two boys that are older – Great Britain does not 'ave mixed classes?"

"Generally not, Minister Montpierre." Severus said.

"Gerard, please." The man said, buttering a toast while watching the children – not in a bad way, only in a friendly curious way, and so he didn't worry.

"Severus will do, in that case." He said. "Well, Gerard, I am sure that you can imagine – after living together for 21 days, day and night, and in a dire situation where none of these children believed to be alive in the end, being hungry, tired, exhausted, and even in pain – all of them together, they have grown close, and they have formed a group of their own. It was impossible for them to split up into their original houses after they were finally free. And so, Hogwarts has created this fifth house here, house colours and house animal included."

"You have a house animal?" Bjørn asked, clearly excited.

"It's a desert night wolf." Adrian piped up, and he smiled. Normally, Adrian was a rather shy boy, not talking a lot, and surely not in front of strangers, but apparently he liked those two ministers, what was a good sign.

"Is it now?" Bjørn asked, smiling at the boy. "Did you know that they are very rare, and that they came from South-Africa all the way up to the north, to Scandinavia where a small group is living in a reserve?"

"Really?" Miles asked with his eyes large.

"You are the last 'ouse, in that case, to 'ave a living 'ouse animal." Gerard said. "Not even Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry does 'ave one anymore, and that is the youngest of the wizarding schools."

"Ilvermorny was founded in the 17th century, by an Irish-born descendant of Salazar Slytherin, Isolt Sayre, who came to America aboard the Mayflower, to escaper her dark-witch-aunt." Emma said, and he smiled at the girl. Of course, that would be some kind of information the child would know.

"That is correct." Bjørn nodded. "So, Hogwarts has founded a new house for you. The best solution in my opinion, here you can be together, and you can recover in peace."

"Indeed." He said. "And as the head of this house – and one of the affected, not to mention as the resident Potions Master, and therefore Healer, I have decided to take other students which are affected by the incident, and thus are in need, into this house. That applies to Ginny here, which is a sister to Ronald, Emma, Miles and Adrian, which have been missing their head of house, as well as Cameron, and several others who have worried to the point of exhaustion and malnourishment."

"I see." Gerard said, pouring another cup of coffee. "A wise decision. I am very glad that you serve coffee here, your headmaster has already offered tea, but I do prefer coffee."

"I do need a good and strong cup of coffee, or two, in the mornings, to survive the day at a boarding school." He huffed, glaring at the children that chuckled upon his growl.

"But, how do you fit into this group, Mr. Krum?" Bjørn then asked, looking at Victor. "I hardly believe you are in any way involved into the cave-in accident. You are the Durmstrang champion, after all, and only a visitor at this school."

"Victor is not a student of Durmstrang anymore." Severus said after it was clear that Victor was too startled – and unsure of what to say – to answer. "He just happened to be a student of Karkaroff's and ended up sitting at our house table in the great hall, and as it so happened, headmaster Karkaroff has not only put him under the cruciatus and the imperious curse, but he has also brought blood-quills to Hogwarts to punish his students. And so, I have offered sanctuary to Victor, to keep him safe from his headmaster. He does fit perfectly into this house."

"So, Hogwarts has three champions now." Gerard said, his voice calm, but he could detect a sense of – displeasure in the man's voice.

"As far as I am concerned, and my house, there should be no tournament in the first place." He growled.

"That is exactly the reason as to why we are here." Bjørn nodded his head. "You have barely survived that cave-in, Harry." The man then said, and Severus noted that the Minister was addressing the boy in person, something he valued much. "And now you are thrown into this tournament, against your wishes – do you want to compete?"

"No, sir." The boy said, shaking his head. "I have not put my name into the goblet."

"I didn't believe you had." Bjørn said, calmly. "But it could have been that you wished to partake anyway, now that you have been chosen by that goblet."

"I don't." The boy softly said. "On most days, I can't even go through a day without a nap, and I don't manage a week without a panic attack. I have enough trouble with eating, and with going through half a day of lessons. I wouldn't manage that tournament – and … I'm scared."

"Even if you were a healthy young boy, you had any right to being scared, Harry." Bjørn said, just as softly. "And there is no weakness in admitting to that. You know your limits, and not everyone knows that. What about you, Victor?" The minister asked.

"I didn't vant to partake." The boy said, just as softly as Harry had. "Headmaster Karkaroff made me to, and he threatened me with punishment if I voudn't put my name in the goblet. He has accompanied me when I entered the chamber with the goblet, to make sure that I really put my name in it."

"And what is this about the imperious he used on you?" The minister asked, friendly.

"That is something, I would rather speak with you about in privacy." Severus quickly intervened. "That has no dealings here, during breakfast and with the presence of these children."

"Of course." The Scandinavian Minister inclined his head. "I will look into it, however, and if what you say is true, then Karkaroff will be taken to task. With a blood quill in his possession – not to mention his use of it on students, he is not fit for being headmaster of any school."

"I 'ave 'ad several conversations with Madam Maxime and 'er students before they came to Britain." Gerard said, leaning back in his chair and tapping his nap to his lips. "And I do 'ave the impression that Mademoiselle Delacour did wish to partake in it. Seeing 'however, that Minister Fudge 'as tried to 'ide the, at the time believed deaths of 17 students and a teacher, it is an atroce situation, how do you say? A terrific, 'orrific, thing to do. 'Ad we known that these students were trapped in those dungeons, per'aps dying, we would not 'ave given our consent to the tournament being 'eld. Not at 'ogwarts, and surely not this year. You 'ave my apology for our seeming thoughtlessness."

"You have our thanks, Gerard, for your understanding." Severus sighed, knowing that it must have been a horrible situation for those Ministers, learning of what had happened behind their backs. "However, I see no way to undo what has been started. Harry has tried to leave the antechamber with the goblet, and even though I am worried, he has to partake – as does Victor."

"He won't have to." Bjørn shook his head.

"It is a magical contract." Severus huffed. "We have tried – the goblet has not let Harry out of the chamber."

"The goblet? Or someone else?" Bjørn asked, frowning at him. "Because even if that goblet is like a magical contract, any magical contract can be cancelled. This contract, for example, has been built upon lies. We have all agreed that no student under the age of 17 could partake – and yet, your son is 14. We all have agreed that no 5x creature would be chosen – and yet, dragons and sphynxes are imported into Great Britain for that tournament. It is a Triwizard Tournament – and yet, four champions are chosen. And last but not least – half of those four champions, two of them, have not partaken by free will. This tournament is one big lie, and if two ministers out of the three identify it as such, and give a formal objection, then the tournament is cancelled."

"Dad?" Harry asked, hope in his eyes, and he put a hand on the child's arm.

"I am not sure if it is so easy." He said, especially to keep the child's hopes from going up too high. "But I am sure that Minister Gambling and Minister Montpierre will do what they can – as will I. I will, of course, be with you, officially, in whatever you do to terminate that tournament. I am not only a teacher at this school, but the head of two champions and a healer. Never mind what, you have my support."

Breåk· … ·~†~*~*~*~*~*~†~· … ·Łine

To be continued

Next time in A few days more
Unexpected decisions made – or: Hogwarts upside down

Added author's note
thank you for reading - and yes, I would be glad if you took the time to review this chapter, thank you
also, of course I have re-installed the house cup – with each review, please state your house, so that your house can get a point. There won't be loss of points, only gains … may the best house with the most reviews win …

House Cup:
At the present time it looks like this:

Slytherin 98
Gryffindor 54
Ravenclaw 27
Hufflepuff 15
Hogwarts 21
Durmstrang 04
Tennessee Institute of Magic & Technomancy 01
Yellowstone Institute 01